The Royal Pain Er, Wedding
by AMarguerite
Summary: Of course, there was the union of our beloved rulers, Jon and Thayet. But the wedding with Buri as this story's main character? Raoul gets drunk, Buri scowls, Gary gets hit in the head with a soup ladle, and Thayet designs clothing... not necessarily in
1. Flying Ladles

Disclaimer:  Nope, sorry.  Last time I checked I didn't own, what, about five best-selling book-series?  I'm not writing this to make money.  If so, I'd be sued, and I kind of need my college fund for later.

A/N:  Note that this is after Alanna and George are engaged, and about a month before Jon and Thayet's wedding. I've never really been a Johnny fan, so fans of ol' Johnny boy, be warned.  Erm, that's really it.  You can go ahead and read the story now.  

Buri polished her throwing stars again.  She was bored.  Very bored.  Next to her on the couch was a knight she didn't know all too well, named Sir Raoul.  He was lucky, as he had managed to fall asleep.  On a couch to her right, George and Alanna were holding a whispered conversation, with George's arm draped around Alanna's middle, and Alanna resting her head on his chest.  Across from Buri was the Prime Minister, Sir Gareth, sprawled out in an easy chair, next to a lady Buri also didn't know, also in her own chair.  That lady actually seemed to know what was going on.  And of course, on Buri's left, were Thayet and Jon… and the wedding planner.  

"Now, cloth of gold is normally associated with royalty, as is fur," the wedding planner explained, peering over her spectacles with a slight frown, "but neither really go well together, so you can either have one or none."  Buri had the urge to throw her dagger into the wedding planner's back.  She really didn't want to sit here listing to the merits of puce over teal.  Buri didn't even know what color puce actually was. 

"Cloth of gold is fine… and we have some in one of the storerooms," Thayet mused.  "But I would like red.  It's the K'mir color for joy and happiness."

"Red and gold is good," the planner appraised.  "And for His Majesty?"

"Uhh… blue?" King Jon hazarded, caught off guard.

"Blue and?" the planner prompted, tapping her quill on a sheet of parchment.

"Silver?" Jon guessed.  Truthfully, he had been daydreaming about lunch, and had thought of the colors off the top of his head. 

"So red and gold for the bride's half of the audience, and blue and silver for the groom's side?" the wedding planner clarified.

Jon blinked.  Thayet nodded.  The planner grinned.  She was getting a very good commission to arrange the wedding of Tortall's rulers.  Raoul woke with a start.  

"Are we done yet?" he questioned blearily, but not loud enough for Thayet and Jon to hear.

Buri gave a small sigh and held up one of her throwing stars to the light to see if she had missed any spots.  "Nope.  I wish we were.  But we really aren't."

"Oh."  Raoul looked as if he were being tortured to the point of death.  "I could've really used this time to train the new troops of the Own."

Buri nodded.  "Thayet said something about establishing a group called the Queen's Own, or Riders, or something.  I'd give anything to organize that now then this whole affair."

"Now for the party favors!" the planner trilled cheerfully.

George and Alanna laughed at something, and then went back to their own private little world.  Thayet leaned against Jon and hugged him around the shoulders.  Sir Gareth and the lady he was next to kissed briefly.  Buri looked away.  Seeing couples like this was like standing in a newlywed's bedchamber during Beltane Eve.  It was embarrassing.

Raoul nudged her foot with his.  "Is it just me or does this room seem full of couples?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Couples," she agreed, beginning to polish another throwing star.  At that moment a horrible thought occurred to her.  "Oh, no."  She turned to Raoul.  "You don't think… they wouldn't would they?"

Raoul blanched.  "But we just met each other a few weeks ago, on the practice courts.  They wouldn't really do that?  I mean, I wouldn't put it past Jon, with my attempts to avoid Corus for the past couple of months, but…."

"I wouldn't put it past Thayet either," Buri muttered grimly, ignoring the wedding planner's lecture on how the selected handkerchiefs and daggers simply would not do.  "I knew she'd been annoyed with my getting annoyed at her talking about the king so much, but I think this is taking it a little too far.  She could have said something at least, before this.  Before, uh, 'setting us up.'"

Raoul rubbed his eyes.  "I don't think we even know each other that well."  He took a deep breath.  "Hi.  I'm Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak.  I'm Commander of the King's Own, and I don't like formal parties."  He stuck out a massive hand for her to shake.  

Buri smiled slightly, and took it.  "Nice to meet you, Sir Raoul.  I'm Buri, short for Buriram Tourakom of the K'miri Hau Ma. My family has served Thayet's mother's line for generations.  I don't enjoy, well, all this stuff, really."  She put her customary scowl back in place, and dropped the Knight Commander's large hand.   

Raoul grinned good-naturedly.  "That's good.  Maybe we can convince those two," he gestured with his head at Thayet and Jon, "to let us go."

Buri tucked a throwing star in her belt and pulled several more from her boot.  "I doubt it, but there's no harm in asking I suppose.  It's not like we're really needed."  She glanced at Jon, who kissed the tip of Thayet's nose, and made a face.  "Ugh.  People in love aren't only boring, but embarrassing."

Raoul grimaced.  "This is about all I can take of this."

"And as for the reception, what sort of entertainment do you think would be best?" the wedding planner continued on obliviously.  "I know dancing of course, but any contests, or such?"

"Well," Thayet started.  Just then, the bell rang.  Loudly.  Buri and Raoul gave audible sighs of relief.  Jon shot them a glare, which they both pointedly ignored.   

"Lunch!" Gary interrupted deafeningly.  "I think it's really quite time for lunch!"  The lady who had been seated next to him nearly fell out of her chair.  George and Alanna also looked pleased at the idea.  The wedding planner scowled.  She wasn't paid during the midday meal, nor was she provided one.  

Buri marched out of the room as quickly as possible.  She had no desire to stay behind and make idle chitchat about the weather.  She would rather have food.  Raoul hurried to keep up with her.  The small K'mir rolled her eyes.  At least she wasn't the only one who didn't want to sit and listen to arguments on, of all things, what color ribbon Thayet should have tied around her bouquet. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Buri glanced happily at her tray of food, and began slicing up her meat.  Ah… away from color schemes and annoying blonde wedding planners.  As usual, she sat on Thayet's left, so she could make sure that the Princess would be safe from assignation attempts.  Hey, old habits die hard.  

Meanwhile, Raoul was sitting on the king's left, for a far more different purpose.  "Uh, Jon?  I don't really see why I have to be there during all the planning sessions.  I mean, it's not as if I say anything other then 'Oh, okay,' or 'I'm sorry, what was that again?'"

Jon rubbed his forehead.  "You are in charge of the security.  You're supposed to be paying attention to what's going on so that we don't have an international incident."

Raoul blinked at him for a minute.  "You're talking about colors.  What does that have to do with security?"

Jon rubbed his forehead again.  Thayet hid a smile, and Buri snorted into her rice.

"You really weren't paying attention before that, were you?"  

"No, not really.  I was asleep."

King Jonathan of Tortall closed his eyes.  "You were asleep.  And you didn't see any reason to be awake and paying attention."

Raoul shrugged and stuffed a few spoonfuls of rice into his mouth.  "Not particularly, no."         

"Well, if you had been paying attention, we were discussing how many weapons those in the wedding party should be allowed to carry."

Raoul studied the lump of vegetables on his plate.  "And, let me guess.  Whether they'll clash with mauve?"      

Buri turned her laugh into a hacking cough, and as a result, nearly managed to choke on her glass of cider.  Thayet looked at the younger K'mir in alarm, then back at her fiancé, who looked as if he were about to spontaneously combust.

And then the king lost his temper.  He slammed his fist on the table so hard that Buri choked on her cider again, and Thayet's serving of mashed peas landed squarely on Alanna's head.  Of course, most of the silverware practically jumped off the table, and Gary got walloped in the ear with a flying ladle.  Not to mention the fact that a servant carrying a pumpkin pie was nearly speared by a fork, which meant he fell down quickly and the aforementioned pastry hit Raoul in the face.

Alanna scowled almost as fiercely as Buri, and attempted to wipe the peas off her face… with George's 'help'.  He wasn't much help, though, as he seemed to be doubled over laughing.  Gary clutched his ear in pain, while his lady looked in the other direction and tried not to express any sort of amusement.  Buri massaged her throat, while Thayet sat with her head in her hands.  Raoul wiped a finger full of pumpkiny goop off his cheek, and stuck the finger in his mouth.

After a moment, he commented, "You know, this pie is actually very good."  

Jon was seething.  "Raoul!  I'm going to make you dance at the reception!  With the most vapid members of court and I'll make you stay the whole gods-cursed reception!"

Raoul blanched.  "You… wouldn't really do that?"

"And you'll have to dance with Buri," Jon added, as a bit of an afterthought.

"Hey!" Buri protested.  "Since when am I a punishment?"

Thayet frowned at Jon.  George and Alanna, who had been searching for more napkins, stopped and stared at the King.  Gary blinked a few times, and tried to ease his way between Raoul and Jon.

"Now, I'm sure that this minor disagreement can be settled without such drastic measures-"Gary attempted, hoping to appease both parties involved.

"Not with-" Raoul started, but Alanna managed to slap a hand over his mouth in time. 

Buri scowled.  "And I really don't appreciate being treated as some sort of punishment."

Thayet frowned.  "Jon, I hope you know what you're doing?"

Jon turned to Thayet and kissed her on the cheek.  "Of course."

Needless to say, Buri was now confused, as well as ticked off.  She wasn't the only one with that emotion, as at that point in time, George shouted, "What in the name of the Crooked God is going on?!"

Everyone fell silent. George grinned, and at a wink from the King's Champion, continued.  "All, I wanted to know is who's givin' who trouble, and what exactly everyone's arguin' about."

Raoul pried Alanna's fingers off his mouth, only to have Gary's lady gag him with her handkerchief.  Buri snorted again, and rolled her eyes.  Today was going to be a really long day.   

Question for anyone who knows, what is the name of Buri's horse in Lioness Rampant?  Or who in the world Gary married.  I can't find my book.  And reviews are appreciated. **:D**  

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	2. Rain? What Rain?

Buri hunched over on the couch sullenly.  No matter what she had done, she was still forced to dance with Raoul.  Even after George had gotten them to figure out that Raoul and Buri did not want to be in the planning meetings, and come to think of it, neither did Alanna and George.  And no one wanted to go to dinner to discuss the guest list. And also despite the fact she'd done nothing wrong.  And couldn't dance.  And didn't want to dance.  And the only reason she was going there at all was because Thayet was her friend.  And she was about two feet shorter then Raoul.  And she didn't like wearing dresses or skirts.  And the fact she didn't know how to move in her dress to begin with.  And the fact that she didn't see herself as some type of arcane punishment.  And, well… somehow all Buri's complaints made Thayet more determined to make her dance with Raoul.

Once again, the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' was prattling on about different candle styles, and how the ones in the temple for the ceremony had to be different then the ones in the Great Hall for the reception and banquet.  Raoul was grumbling and shooting death glares at King Jon, who happened to be playing absently with a lock of Thayet's hair and daydreaming about dinner.  George and Alanna seemed to be kissing each other senseless, and were ignored by the rest of the room.  Gary and his lady, whose name was Cythera of Elden, as Buri learned, were trying to figure out who Raoul had managed to bite her silken handkerchief in half.  Frankly, Buri had no idea either, but really didn't care.

"How about floating candles?" the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for A Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' gushed.  "Very in style now!  And they'd look very good floating in gold-rimmed white porcelain bowls!  Set between each guest, and filled with clear spring water, and the occasional charmed flower."

"Sounds great," Thayet mused vaguely.  "But the ones in the Temple of the Goddess in the City of Gods?"

"Twisted beeswax!" the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for A Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' chirped merrily.  Not for the last time, Buri was tempted to threaten the stupid planner with decapitation by throwing stars.  However, Thayet had confiscated her throwing stars in the hopes that Buri would now pay attention, and the petite K'mir could not follow through with her threat.  Buri scowled at the floor again.  Raoul sighed.  Buri turned to stare at him.

"I never wanted to be a desk knight, sitting around and making idle chit-chat with people I don't even know," Raoul explained softly and mournfully, "I always wanted to ride out and do great deeds, and maybe command my own squadron.  Like I do now.  You know, I'd like to train my troops, command them, as I am their commander, fight evil and stamp out oppression and racial discrimination."  He heaved an impressive sigh, which Jon seemed to ignore.  "Then Jon fell in love."

Buri made a face.  "Tell me about it.  Thayet only talks about you-know-who.  And she talks a lot.  People in love are so boring."

Raoul nodded heavily.  "And telling them we weren't needed only made it worse."

Buri resumed her usual scowl.  "We have to dance now.  More then once."

The Knight Commander shook his head.  "They're worse then matchmakers, I swear."

"Now, as for the clothing, I took the liberty of bringing in my own dress maker for Her Majesty's half of the wedding party, and a different one for His Majesty's half," the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for A Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' blathered.  "Now, they'll come in and ask your Royal Highnesses about the colors!"

Buri stifled a groan.  A portly woman with vivid red hair stepped into the room, glancing around it briefly.

"Women stay here," she boomed.  Raoul breathed a sigh of relief.  "Men, in the next room."  Raoul swore.  Buri fought to keep grimacing instead of starting to grin.  

The woman sat down heavily.  "I'm Ilea, and you men better scat so I can start measuring for dresses.  Unless of course, you want to wear a pretty skirt in front of the foreign delegations…."  The men quickly exited.  The wedding planner stretched out in her chair and began offering helpful suggestions on what types of fabric would go nicely with the colored themes.    

"Now," the seamstress continued on, ignoring the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for A Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths', "What sort of style were we planning on having?  Low neckline, off the shoulder, or full collar?"

Thayet picked up a sketch on the table next to her.  "Well, I thought we might have this for the bridesmaids…."  Buri leaned over to look, and scowled again.  The dresses were low cut, with full skirts and flowing sleeves.  Below the hemline of the over dress was the edge of a petticoat.

"That's fine," Ilea rumbled, examining the sketch.  "I suppose you'd like it in satin, and the petticoats in pastel colors?" Thayet smiled and nodded.  "In what colors?"

"For the petticoats," Thayet mused, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "Lavender for Alanna, spring green for Cynthiana, and light yellow for Buri.  And I wasn't sure of what color the over-dress should be, but I was thinking… a light sapphire."

"And they'll wear the same thing for the reception?" Ilea clarified.  Thayet nodded as Buri began trying to remind herself she really didn't want to start screaming.

"And the wedding dress?"  Ilea looked up at Thayet, having previously been studying Thayet's sketch.

"Cream trimmed in white lace, with a trailing skirt.  Sleeveless, but with strips of fabric that hang down from the shoulders.  And a tiara."  Thayet blushed, as Buri and Alanna blinked in amazement.  Cythera nodded in agreement.  Love her or hate her, Thayet knew her clothing.  Very well indeed.  

Ilea smiled.  "Let's get cracking on these sketches!"  Buri wished for her throwing stars.  

* * * * * *

After several hours of mind numbing torture, Buri was free!  Well, at least until tomorrow.  Then she'd have to go back and be fitted for her dress.  And dinner, to go over the guest list.  That put a slight damper on things.  So she headed to the Practice Courts, where she tried to beat the living daylights out of a hanging bag of straw, which was slightly hard, considering that a straw punching bag is an inanimate object.

"Bad dress?" Raoul sympathized after arriving.  "Our, 'suits' as the tailor called them, are horrible.  They're making us wear hose, tight hose that you can't move in, silver over tunics, of all things, white lace shirts, and fur-trimmed capes.  Not to mention we can't wear boots.  We get to wear shoes with fashionably pointed toes.  I might just show up in boots to spite them."

Buri gave the bag a loud whack, and clamed down enough to talk to Raoul.  "We get dresses with full skirts and petticoats.  You don't know how hard it is to move in a dress and petticoats.  Not to mention the plunging necklines, flowing sleeves, and dainty silk slippers."

Raoul shook his head mournfully.  "Someone up there must really not like us."

Buri made a face.  "Horse Lords, what have we ever done to offend them?"

Raoul shrugged.  "Honestly, I have no clue."  He paused a moment, gauging the sagging bag of straw, and Buri's staff.  "Want to go riding?  Mithros knows I need to get away from Corus, if even for a few minutes."

Buri allowed herself a grin.  "All right.  Just one question."

Raoul heaved a dramatic sigh.  "As you wish."

"Where are we going?  Or are we wandering aimlessly?  Because at this point in time, I'd be glad to race through the mud on a skunk to get away from this great big, royal pain, er, wedding."  

Raoul shrugged.  I figured we'd go riding around the forest, for lack of a better idea."

Moments later, Buri had saddled Sure-Foot, and galloped off into the forest.  It was pleasantly cool, and Raoul turned out to be a very good rider.  After a few moments of tearing through the forest randomly, to try and work off some annoyance at the "Royal Pain," as Buri had dubbed the wedding.  Eventually, they slowed, and the horses ambled through the trees.  Buri breathed in deeply, feeling relaxed for once.  

Raoul peered around the trees a moment.  "Ah, no one for miles.  And no weddings."  He pulled out a small bottle of something, and sipped on it quite happily.  

Buri glanced at the sky.  "That's true.  But it looks like rain."

Raoul took another swig from the bottle, and put it back in his saddle bag.  "No it won't.  Let's keep going.  We're still too close to Corus for my tastes."

Buri hesitated slightly, and then urged Sure-Foot forward.  She was used to riding in the rain.  But the rain-clouds did look big.  And she knew there was something she was forgetting…. 

Oh, well.  She hadn't been able to ride Sure-Foot for a week.  It was worth getting wet and possibly quite cold in order to just be riding.

Raoul was waiting in front of her, taking a few more swallows of whatever was in the bottle.  Buri thought it might have been wine.  

"Look," she called.  "Are you sure it won't rain?"

"Of course it won't," Raoul reassured her sparing a quick glance at the sky.  "It absolutely will not rain-" Just then, a large clap of thunder seemed to explode over the clearing.  And the rain began to fall.

Buri raised an eyebrow.  "You were setting yourself up for that one, I hope you know."

Raoul blinked raindrops out of his eyes.  "I suppose I was, wasn't I?"  

Buri flipped up the hood of her cloak.  "Oh, yeah."

Raoul heaved a dramatic sigh.  "Such is my luck in life," he muttered mournfully.  "To have to eat my words before I can finish saying them."  Buri chuckled at that.

"C'mon, we'd better head back to the castle.  We're getting wet."

Raoul finished whatever was in the bottle and sighed.  "There's no use fighting the inevitable.  Let's go."           

A/N: Sorry for the delay!  My family and I went camping in Colorado.  And thanks for all your reviews!  This chapter dedicated to all of you guys who told me Gary married Cythera of Elden, and that Buri's horse was Sure-Foot.  And to all of you who left me a nice review, even if you didn't know, like I didn't.  Oh, and er, sorry if there are any mistakes.  I don't have a beta, and don't know where to get one.  *sheepish grin*  

Disclaimer:  No, I don't own this series.  Neither do you, unless you're Tammy, and she said she doesn't read fan-fics.  


	3. Of Tree Branches and Walls

            A/N: Sorry it took so long you guys!  I'm back in school, and French takes precedence over fan-fiction.  And, dim as my wits appear to be, with getting up at 6 AM every day, I just realized there isn't a complete summary posted with my story.  So… here it is: 

Of course, there was the union of our beloved rulers, Jon and Thayet. But the wedding with Buri as this story's main character? Raoul gets drunk, Buri scowls, Gary gets hit in the head with a soup ladle, and Thayet designs clothing... not necessarily in that order!  

*grin* Enjoy!  And thanks for all my wonderful reviews!  *is still dazed* Over twenty!  Wow….  

Disclaimer:  Do you honestly think I own this series?  If I did, I would be publishing this, and you'd have to pay $20 to read it.  So you can safely assume I do not own this and am writing it for my own amusement.  Yes, I am well aware of the fact that I'm a pathetic 9th grader with no social life, so nyah.

Buri hunched over in her saddle, peering intently through the trees for the road.  Sure-Foot plodded onward, and tossed his head to rid itself of raindrops.  It was hard to see through the thick trees, especially with the rainstorm pounding viciously on her cloaked back.  

"I suppose we're lost now," Raoul sighed, pulling up closer to Buri.  

Buri scowled harder and nodded.  "I can't seem to find the road."

Raoul shook his head, and water droplets went flying.  "I had thought so."  He looked off to the right.  "Well, the road might be-"

"Raoul!  Watch out!" Buri called.  Too late.  The large knight was whapped in the face by a tree branch, and he nearly got knocked out of the saddle.  Buri snorted, and determinedly tried to keep her scowl in place.  

Raoul winced and rubbed his face.  "Ow."

Buri failed in her attempt.  She burst out laughing.  

Raoul shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and rubbed his eyes.  "It's not that funny.  That hurt."

Buri attempted to keep her laughter in check.  Then she glanced back at the poor Knight Commander, glaring mournfully at the branch behind them.  She snickered happily.

Raoul made a slight face.  "Well, it might be funny, but it was very painful."

Buri shook her head vigorously, sending raindrops flying.  "Sor-sorry," she gasped out.  "The g-great Sir Raoul of G-golden Lake nearly knocked out b-by a TREE!"  She laughed as loud as she dared.

The corners of Raoul's mouth twitched into a smile.  "Well, as long as you don't tell the men of the own, I'll be okay.  I'd hate to lose the little respect I've gained."

Buri took several deep breaths, and calmed down somewhat.  "All right, all right.  But didn't you hear me when I yelled, 'Raoul!  Watch out?'"

Raoul glanced ruefully at the branch, growing smaller behind them.  "Um… no."

All her gained calm dissipated.  After several more moments of muffled glee, Buri managed to quiet herself enough to try and find the road.  

Raoul looked slightly sulky.  "We're lost."

Buri inhaled sharply, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.  She closed her eyes and opened them again.  "Isn't that the road there?"  She pointed to the right, where she could see a small patch of cleared land.

Raoul squinted.  "No, that's a deer trail.  The road should be, oh."  This was due to the fact that the horses had, quite literally stumbled unto the road through a broken hedge.  "Well, I suppose it is the road."  He looked at the road in baffled amusement.  

Buri said nothing, in the hopes she wouldn't begin to laugh again. 

Raoul shook his head.  "I'm not normally like this you know," he sighed dolefully.  "It's not like I normally get lost in forests or get knocked out of my saddle by low hanging tree-branches."

Buri fought the impulse to smile.  "Well, I had imagined so."

"You seem amused by my temporary fit of insanity."  

Buri grinned.  "Enormously."  Raoul made a small snorting noise that sounded like he was trying not to laugh as well.

All too soon, they were back at Corus.  After brushing down Sure- Foot until Stefan the groomsman got thoroughly annoyed he wasn't allowed to do his job, and then feeding the little mountain pony until it couldn't eat or drink anything else, Buri reluctantly headed into the palace with Raoul, who had attempted to stall by cleaning all of his tack twice.  Buri felt uneasy, knowing that she had definitely forgotten something, but not knowing exactly what.  Raoul apparently thought the same thing, as he said as much.  There really was something to be said for that… not like Buri knew, but she was still trying to figure out what in the name of the Horse Lords she'd forgotten.  And so, Buri managed to walk into a wall.

Buri fell backwards, landing squarely on her bottom.  Raoul chuckled, ignoring Buri's death glare.

"I ride into a tree, you walk into a wall," he explained once he appeared to be able to breathe again. The corner of Buri's mouth twitched surreptitiously, and it took some effort to keep scowling.  

"Well, I suppose-"  Buri never got to finish her sentence, which was more along the lines of, "that is pretty funny" or something like that, as she and Raoul had been spotted by Jon and Thayet.

"Oh," Raoul muttered in a sort of defeated tone of voice.  "This really can't be good."

The king was furious.  And Thayet looked annoyed.  Buri felt like jumping out a window.  It wouldn't really do any good, and she might get hurt, but she'd get out of this really awkward situation.

"Where were you!?" the king seethed.  

"Riding." Raoul answered solidly.  "We went riding in the Forest.  Why?"

"We weren't supposed to be somewhe- oh, wait." Buri began remembering.  Then she used a K'miri word she wouldn't dare say in Common.  "We were supposed to go to a dinner to go over the guest list, weren't we?"

Thayet frowned at them both.  "Yes."

Buri and Raoul glanced at each other in alarm.  They were in trouble now.

"We're in for it," Buri whispered to Raoul out of the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, yeah," Raoul agreed, wincing.

* * * * * * 

The next morning, Buri awoke to find all of her breeches gone.  There was now a collection of skirts hanging in her closet.  And though she was able to find all her weapons, the box of chocolates next to her bed was missing.

Buri was glad her punishment wasn't worse, though she was extremely annoyed about the lack of movement her skirts allowed her.  Then she spotted a letter.  It stood, stamped by Thayet and the King's new seal, glaring ominously at her from her desk.  At that moment it began to shriek at her. 

"You lazy slug-a-bed!  Why haven't you opened me yet, you miserable canker blossom?  You can't delay your punishment anymore you scum!  Filth!  Moron!"  Buri glared at the letter a moment, and then chucked a throwing star at it.  It made a sound like, "fwipiugh…" and was silent.  After dressing and braiding her hair, Buri tentatively opened the scroll.

"Buriam Tookarm, this shall be your punishment," it announced grandly.  Buri wanted to stab the stupid document with her throwing stars again.  "You and Lord Raoul of Goldenlake shall henceforth attend all meetings regarding to the Royal Wedding, and are in charge of picking out the music for the Royal Wedding.  Should you pick an incredibly horrible band for the wedding, your throwing stars will be taken away, and Thayet knows about the time when you were three and managed to slice open the Scanran Ambassador's robe in half with a steak knife."  Buri cringed.  Thayet would never let her forget that.  "You are also not allowed sweets for two months.  You are to report to the King and Queen's dining chambers in ten minutes."  With that, Buri ripped the scroll into tiny little pieces and stuffed them into her waste basket.  

Buri slammed her door shut, only to find her red skirt had gotten caught in the door.  Buri was very glad there was no one there to see her make a complete fool of herself. She fumbled for the key to her door, muttering about how the sudden lack of sugar she was experiencing was cruel and unusual punishments, when, as luck seemed to dictate, several noblemen and their ladies appeared. Buri jammed the key into her doorknob, and turned and gave a short bow to the noblemen.  Of course, it was then that her skirt ripped, and fell off.  Buri yanked open the door, and slammed it again, feeling generally wrathful and extremely embarrassed.  She could hear laughing in the hallway, and a few wolf whistles.  She quickly changed into a soft fawn colored skirt and white blouse, the reason being that they were of sturdier then her dress.  She then yanked open the door, and threw a few throwing stars at the laughing nobles.  She wasn't aiming to hurt them, and so just cut off some of their hair, and frightened them away.  Feeling slightly better, she retrieved her throwing stars and darted to the King and Queen's dining chamber.  She sincerely hoped she was not late.  But luck finally gave up on trying to ruin Buri's life, and she got there just on time.  Of course, when she got in the Royal Private Dining Room containing a surly looking Raoul and an annoyed King and almost Queen, she ran into a servant, and almost got tea on her clothes, but the tea didn't actually get on her too much.  Besides it was just on the hem of her skirt, and it was brown anyway.  

Thayet raised her eyebrows at Buri, but said nothing, indicating a seat beside her.  Buri sank into it gratefully, still dolefully scowling; as she had the feeling no one could quite place her without it.  

"Glad you could join us," Thayet mumbled, poking her porridge with her spoon.  It didn't seem as if she could quite break the surface of the porridge.

Buri glanced at her own bowl, and attempted to stick her spoon in the gelatinous mess.  The spoon went in, but it stuck.  Raoul had given up on porridge and brusquely buttered toast, to the disapproving glares of the King.

"The Cook's new," Raoul muttered to Buri, offering her a piece of toast with raspberry jam.  "She's excellent with dinners and desserts but she hasn't had much experience with breakfast.  Jon's considering promoting her for Chief Cook to Their Royal Majesties to Chief Cook of Dinners and Desserts.  Jon was never very creative with names."

Buri's scowl seemed to crack. "Thanks."

Raoul gave her a small smile.  "Don't mention it.  What'd they do to you?"

"Hid my breeches, gave me skirts and dresses, have forbidden me from sweets, and are forcing me to listen to lackluster bands in order to pick out one for their reception."

"They aren't allowing me to ride or get near to the stables at all.  They hid most of my breeches so I have to wear hose, and well, same deal with the bands."

Jon sent them a piercing glare.  "Well, Thayet dear, how did you sleep?"

Apparently not that well, as Thayet chirped, sweetly, of course, "Johnny darling, I'm over here."

Buri snorted softly, and attempted to pry her spoon out of her porridge.  She did, but her porridge seemed to have congealed around it, so she was holding a half-circle of porridge stuck on top of a spoon.  Raoul laughed into his orange juice.

Buri gently set down her porridge-on-a-spoon and smeared raspberry jam over a piece of toasted bread.  

"At any rate, it was all right, except that the nobles in the room next to mine seemed to be clog- dancing," Thayet continued.  Buri began trying not to laugh into her orange juice, as Raoul seemed to be choking on his.  Thayet gave Jon a wry smile, as the king seemed to be slightly stupefied.  "How did you sleep dear?"

"All right," Jonathan responded automatically.  "But I will sleep a lot better when this planning's over with."

"And after the actual wedding takes place," Raoul muttered to Buri.  

She coughed lightly.  "But of course.  Though I doubt they'll get much in the way of sleep."  

Raoul shook his head.  "You have a dirty mind."

"It's what comes from riding with the Lioness and Liam Ironarm for about three months.  Not to mention the influence of my brother."

Raoul smiled, and Thayet, who'd apparently overheard, coughed.  Buri had a feeling her day just might be better then yesterday.    

A/N: Please be nice and review!  And thanks for all my lovely ones already!                  


	4. Cruel and Unusal Punishment

A/N:  Hello again!  This chapter took awhile as I had no clue what types of musical instruments there were in Tortall.  But the folks at sheroescentral.com helped out immensely.  So, even though I love all of my reviews, and all of you reviewers, I have to dedicate this to sheroes.com.  : )  

Disclaimer:  Although I'm trying to convince my mom to let me buy all the Tamora Pierce books, I only own Page, Emperor Mage, and Lioness Rampant.  The copies I get to read are owned by the library.  And the ideas are owned by Tamora Pierce.  But I own the bands.  Mwahahahahahaha.  Well, some of them.  If you recognize something, chances are I do not own it.  In this chapter we get to play, "Spot the Copy-Right Infringements!  *unenthusiastic cheering* I also do not mean to offend anyone's musical tastes.  I just happen to enjoy classical music.  And I needed to mock something, so rap was sacrificed.      

Buri rested her check on her hand, her elbow on her chair's armrest.  She didn't expect Thayet to follow through on the promised punishments so quickly.  But, she and Raoul were sitting in this large room with a stage and chairs watching a "band" of teenagers who had spiked their hair using gravy, set up their instruments.  The only good things about this were that Raoul was there, and that Thayet had considered Buri's punishment to harsh (a warning sign if Buri had ever seen one), and apologized by providing them with two large boxes of sweets.  Raoul casually studied a chocolate covered cherry from the box between them.  

Buri was suddenly struck with a burst of inspiration.  She strode to the door and yanked it open.  "Attention!" the K'miri called out into the hallway where the rest of the performers were waiting.  "Due to the number of, uh, groups auditioning, each group is limited to five minutes of stage time each."  An extremely loud groan came from most of the performers.  Buri felt extremely smug as she closed the door.  Raoul grinned at her.  

"Great idea," he whispered.  "Oh wait… they're starting."  The teenagers gripped what looked to be strange variations of violins.  

            "Are you… ready to rock!?" the boy with what he seemed to think was an artfully torn tunic questioned rhetorically.  Buri raised an eyebrow, and Raoul muffled his sigh by stuffing the chocolate covered cherry in his mouth.  

            "'Kay!" a preppy looking blond with gravy spiked hair shouted.  "This song's called, 'My Momma Won't Let Me Join the Court of the Rouge'."  Raoul groaned.  Buri understood the feeling.

"OHHHHHHHH!" the entire group squealed.  Buri winced, and Raoul seemed to be mumbling prayers to whatever deity was listening. "I wanna be a thief, OHHHHHHHH!  I wanna join the court of the Rouge, OHHHHHHHH!  But my momma is so backward, so she has some walls that are, um… plastered! Yeah!  OHHHHHHHH!"

"THANK YOU!"  Buri bellowed.  The music faded abruptly.  

Raoul exhaled.  "We'll get back to you.  We have your, uh, resume.  Please send in the next group."  The "resumes" were crumbled and un-crumpled pieces of parchment with the names and addresses of the performers, and any previous experiences the group might have had.  Fortunately, the teenagers had none.

Grumbling about the lack of time, the 'band' dismantled their equipment, making room for a nervous looking minstrel who was clutching a lyre with broken strings.  

"I-if," the minstrel started, taking a deep breath, "my lords, er, lord, and ladies, er… lady, will allow me to call on the great spirits of the realm…."  Buri contemplated the box of chocolate a moment, and then pulled out a caramel.  Raoul was staring at the minstrel's resume, looking extremely depressed.

The minstrel strummed his un-tuned lyre, so that a great twanging noise echoed throughout the room.  "I'm here to tell the tale of the doomed lovers Madras and Iodide.  But first, I call upon the ancient hero Malachi the Brave Ugly Dwarf, who was Madras great grand-uncle, and when Malachi sneezed, he invented the trumpet."  Buri and Raoul exchanged worried glances.  This was off to a bad start.  Perhaps Thayet had been right about this being to harsh a punishment….  "Furthermore, the three sons of Malachi the Brave Ugly Dwarf; Mala, Chiri, and Malchir, who had three swords named Mea, Mike, and Ug, three dogs named Dawgy, Duggy, and Bob, and three wives named Lea, Leah, and Morina.  These three wives had three fathers each, their names being, Shad, Rack, and Benny, and Shad, Rack, and Benny's wives being, Emir, Emanon, and Joe.  However these three wives had one father, who was Jonahed (who's ears drooped to his knees when he was depressed), and two great-grand uncles, one named Desman, who could hear a fly when it was right in front of his face, and Harelot, who could see a rabbit from two feet away.  And they trained in the grand army of King Noble James Ronald Jason Ian Gawain Lola Bob Thurston Marie Harrows Louis Mel John the Seventeenth.  He married Antonia Lea Maier Mignonette Paulette Jane Rachel Zoë Chloe Gardenia Lillie Foe Bob Billy Stewart the Ninth.  In addition-" 

"Thank you!" Buri yelled again.  Even the normally chivalrous Raoul seemed not to want to give everyone an exact five minutes.   The minstrel made an angry huffing sound, and hopped off the stage.  He yanked open the door and a portly opera singer thundered up the stairs.  Raoul unhappily scanned the next resume.  Buri noticed that the piece of parchment was stained with what appeared to be some sort of meat sauce with noodles.

"I'll be singing my own rendition of the Barber on the Hill," he boomed grandly.  He then cleared his throat deafeningly and belted out a song.  "The baaaaaarbeeeer, he liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiies in waaaaaaaait… of customers to pay hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim.  He staaaaaaaaaaaands up on the toooop of the hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiill!  And they saaaaay his name iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim.  A shave and a haircuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut is still only twoooooooooooooo coooooooooopper crooooooooowns.  And once he iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis finish-ed, he sweeps up the grooooooooouuuuuuunds!"

Buri plugged her fingers in her ears and attempted to interrupt the soloist.  But her screams of protest were drowned out by the thunderous baritone of the opera singer.  Raoul had attempted to stuff his ears with tissue paper from the candy box, and was wincing in pain.  After several minutes of excruciating torture, the opera singer stopped, and walked proudly off stage.  Next was a group of recorder players, who were okay, but you could only last through so many renditions of "Hot Cross Buns" which, apparently, was the only song they knew how to play.  A man wearing saggy clothes explained he was going to 'rap', and 'rapped' a song about how flowers were deadly.  Then a man with a large red mustache performed a very somber song, to which a woman sang about "Danny Boy" and how he was now dead.  Needless to say, they had auditioned with the wrong sort of material.  Another minstrel performed a short ditty about how women were the weaker sex.  Buri promptly chased him off stage, threatening him with decapitation by butter knife, while Raoul chuckled very loudly.

A troupe of Players preformed a skit which involved a duel where everyone accused each other of treachery, and they all died except for one guy named Horatio.  Another minstrel with a weak voice sang, while a Player attempted (very poorly, in Buri's opinion) to mime being trapped in a box.  There was an orchestra that couldn't be heard, a man and his dog doing tricks, and a group of singers who sang, while one man played a broken lute (it was actually snapped in half) about the frailty of kings.  A juggler gave an excellent performance, but managed to set the stage on fire.  This time, Raoul forced the "entertainer" out of the room.  By now Buri had a pounding headache, and Raoul looked absolutely miserable.  

"When do we get to stop this?" Buri questioned after a moment, the next group trying to get their props through the door.  "I really feel like stabbing something right now.  How about you?"

Raoul glanced wearily at the next group, who seemed to be carrying in a wooden lion.  "I have to admit, killing something right now would be extremely welcome."  The group performed what they called "Modern Art" in which they frolicked around the lion chanting words like "Skeevity, meevity, bippity boppity boo!"  This not only left Buri and Raoul confused, but the two now had no patience what-so-ever. 

A mage performed various bits of unimpressive magic.  He was kicked out.  A woman in a gray dress attempted to tell them rather unfunny jokes.  She was admonished not to mock the king and queen when she was auditioning for their wedding and to leave and never come back.  A lackluster trumpet player bleated awkwardly on his instrument, and was gently told his skill (or lack thereof) was simply too great to play at the wedding and reception of the royal monarchs.  There was a loud chamber orchestra that shattered Raoul's glass of water and was told half-way through that the two interviewers had heard enough.  An ensemble of children who constantly hit sharper notes then required were politely told that the song they had sung was not exactly suited for them, and they should try auditioning somewhere else. A teenager blasted out a song very poorly, and was ignored until she went away.  Next, a man wearing clothes that were too large for him spoke in rhythm for awhile about vapid, inconsequential things that made no sense what- so- ever.  This was followed by another man who did almost the exact same thing, only to different lyrics.

"I hate this," Buri muttered to Raoul, as she scowled viciously.  

"Now I understand why they lifted the ban on sweets.  This was more then enough punishment."  The weary knight pegged a piece of stale fudge at another self- described 'rapper', who left the stage in a huff.         

Of course they had to suffer through a chamber orchestra that wasn't half-bad, but weren't half good either.  There was a lounge singer whose lyrics made both the K'miri and the Knight-Commander blush.  One man recited strange, un-rhyming poetry to drums.  It was interesting, but not exactly what one would be looking for at the wedding of the kingdom's two rulers.  There were about three more rappers who said more or less the same thing, until Buri lost it and physically threw them out the door to the hall.  

"I shall be doing…" blended into "Oops, that wasn't supposed to happen…" until Buri and Raoul began wondering why in the world these people were auditioning for the royal wedding.  Most of the subject material was completely unsuited for their audition, or they were so abominably bad that it was astonishing that anyone would ever want to see/ hear/ understand these performances.  

"Why?" Raoul asked the ceiling.  "What have I done to you?"

"Horse Lords," Buri fumed.  "These people have no talent."

"Why send them to us?  We haven't forgotten you… all of you.  In fact after this, we'll donate generously to your temples, all of them…."

"You'd think that better performers would audition for royalty."

"I'm a simple man, who tries not to offend any of you. I don't deserve this kind of punishment!"

"Horse Lords!  Why are they so bad!?  The audition for the wedding of the kingdom's monarchs should have the best that the kingdom has to offer!  Not buffoons playing broken instruments."       

Very quietly, a quartet of musicians bearing stringed instruments seemed to appear on stage.  Buri and Raoul lapsed into silence.  They set up chairs and music stands, then the man who was apparently the lead violinist stood.  Buri rubbed her temples.  "Yes?"

"I'm Antonio Vivaldi, and we will be playing a selection from a piece I wrote entitled, 'The Four Seasons'."  The man smiled, and tucked his violin under his chin.  A young woman carefully tuned a viola, while another slid her bow across a cello.  A young man leisurely turned the pegs on his base.  "I call this," Vivaldi announced, "**'Danza pastorale: Allegro'**."  Then with a grand sweep of their bows, the four began to play.  The switched from minor to major keys, altering their dynamics as they went with the easy familiarity born of long hours of practice.  

Buri felt that she didn't even need to turn to Raoul to see what he thought.  But she did anyway.

"Let's hire them," she whispered.

"They're the best we've heard all day," Raoul agreed.

"You're hired," Buri announced.  The quartet beamed at each other.

"Be at the palace tomorrow at, um, second bell, I think, to talk to the Wedding Planner," Raoul added, carefully examining the group's resume.

Buri happily planned to burn the others.  

Just a little note: Review!           


	5. Boredom

A/N:  Wheeeee!  Such loverly reviews!  *sniff* I feel so loved!  Yar, and now I'm back.  Bear with me in this chapter, 'cause I, uh, I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I lost my plot notes.  Actually, a friend found them, and I didn't want her to see them, and we ended up ripping it into tiny illegible pieces.    

Disclaimer:  You seriously think I own the copyrighted works of Tamora Pierce?  Ha, ha.  I laugh at your gullibility.  But the evil wedding planner is mine.  I think… or she might be a copy-off of Umbridge, in which case, I don't own her.  So… I own nothing in this but the plot!  Oh, wait… there is none….  

          The smoke from Buri's small fire curled upward lazily.  Buri grinned, and continued feeding resumes into the blaze.  Ah… such a sense of relief, destroying the horrid things….

"Hello," Raoul greeted her when he arrived, eyes on the fire in front of her.  "Can I burn one?"

Buri pulled one off the top of the pile beside her.  "Here, take the opera singer."

          Raoul chucked it into the flames.  "This is fun, actually."

          Buri raised her eyebrows.  "But of course.  What did you think it was, work?"

          Raoul grinned.  "Can I burn a few more?"

Buri smiled.  "But of course."  They quickly burned the most of the resumes.  

"Ah… this wedding is too much work," Buri sighed, staring at the fire.  Her inner pyromaniac was positively hopping with joy.

"Speaking of the royal wedding of our rulers, the Wedding Planner wishes our attendance at something."

          Buri blanched.  "Please don't tell me Thayet has decided to change her color scheme or something."

          Raoul stared somberly at the now sizeable blaze, and then stuffed several more resumes into it.  "I hope not," he finally confessed.  "But it probably is."  Buri groaned.  Raoul smiled ruefully at her.  "This business is a lot more complicated then I thought."

Buri nodded, and then split the stack of diminished resumes in two.  She handed one pile to Raoul, and then tossed the rest of them into the fire.  It was wonderful to see the hated things turn into ash.    

But her happiness at the end of the music auditions, (and Players, one of whose presentation of the dead court except for Horatio was actually pretty good) faded, as she was forced to sit in on more planning.  Thayet in fact, had decided to change the color scheme.  

          "Gold and red is too gaudy," Thayet explained cheerfully, spreading out sheets filled with different colors.  "And it clashes horribly with blue and silver.  Instead of a riot of color, let's have something simplistic."

_Like perhaps you two eloping_, Buri thought in annoyance.  

The 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' nodded, seeming to be ecstatic at the thought of more money.  "How about an off white, perhaps cream, with royal purple?"

Thayet nodded.  "Exactly!  That's absolutely perfect!  Now if the off-white was background, with swaths of purple everywhere…."  Buri tuned out Thayet, feeling miserable.  She didn't care about colors… why was she here?

Raoul had fallen asleep again, and somehow managed to evade detection.  Buri had attempted, but was unable to nap.  So she sat, bored, polishing her dagger with her handkerchief… Thayet had provided her with several with elaborate lace edges.  Buri set herself to cutting them off with her dagger.  Soon she had a neat pile of tattered lace and a very small square of linen to serve as a handkerchief.  

She glanced around the room.  Raoul was still napping.  Alanna and George seemed to be trying to tickle each other to death in a far corner of the room.  Sir Gary was playing with an abacus… not really doing any work, as every few moments he pushed all the beads to one side, shook the mathematical instrument and tried to guess how many beads there were with his eyes closed. Lady Cythera was humming absentmindedly to herself and polishing what appeared to be her wedding ring.  Occasionally, she 'fixed' the results of her husband's abacus, so that he never had any real idea how many beads there were. 

Buri was entertained a while, watching them, but eventually, she became restless, and attempted to engross her self in the book, _Thy Royalty Hath Many Responsibilities, All Cover-ed In One Convenient Book and Matching 37 Volumes.  Buri flipped it open to 'Teaspoons and Saucers:  How to Correctly Organize Thine Silverware as To Not Cause an International Incident Involving Steak Knives and Foreign Ministers.'    _

Buri shut the book with a snap, and glared at Thayet, who seemed innocently engrossed in swatches of fabrics to drape around flower pots.  Her fiancé was tying the discarded fabrics together in what seemed to be an escape rope to be flung out the window behind him.  Dull, dull, dull….

'Well, what about a wedding present?'  Buri wondered idly, seeing if she could pull a throwing star out of her belt without anyone noticing.  'Um… traditional K'miri gifts are… well, I think candied ginger's one, and I haven't seen any around here….  Then there's money in red envelopes, but they've got plenty of that.  Silk dresses… Thayet's got plenty.  A painted fan… is there a good enough artist in Tortall?  So… ginger it is.'  Her problem now was figuring out where in the city she could find candied ginger.  It was plentiful in Sarain, but in Tortall….

Raoul gave a small snort and turned over.  No one noticed.  Alanna had leaned against George, looking like she was asleep.  George was staring out the window.  Buri glanced at Gary and Cythera.  Cythera was sitting in her husband's lap, so that she could more comfortably kiss him.  At least she and Gary looked happy.

Buri attempted to listen to the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' for a moment.  

"Well, then, silk it is!  But where should it be from, and what type of quality do you want?" the 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' extracted, attempting to drag out the session so she was paid more.  

Thayet considered this a moment.  "Well… as the new rulers, we'd need the best quality, but we'd have to get the fabric from someplace that treats their workers well… pays them well, good working conditions and hours…."

"Very good, Your Majesty!" The 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' beamed.  There were thousands of such places all over Tortall.       

Buri wished she knew how to kill someone by just using the powers of her mind.  

There was a sudden, loud knock on the door that make Raoul wake with a start, and Gary and Cythera to spring apart guiltily.  George and Alanna scrambled to their chairs, and the king dropped his escape rope.  The door creaked open ominously.

"Excuse me, your majesties," a page with close-cropped brown hair interrupted nervously.  "Milords, miladies, but there's some visitors to see you all."

Buri attempted to look interested.

"Oh, um…who?" Jon muttered when he realized he was supposed to say something. 

The page scuffed the ground with a worn in black boot.  "Ah, they said, my liege, but I can't pronounce 'em.  I'm sorry.  They're Bazahir, though," adding this last bit of information helpfully.  

The king shrugged.  "Um… let them in?"  Thayet smoothed her hair down.  The 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths' was positively joyful now.  Her paycheck would be a fat one.

A young Bazahir woman in an embroidered head cloth and a taller man in well-woven tunic entered the room.  Buri glanced at them curiously, wondering what was going on.  But the girl looked familiar…

"It is an honor to meet the Voice of the tribe," the man said, bowing.  

The girl glanced around the room, until she saws Buri and Alanna.  Her eyes lit up.

"Buri! Alanna!  Thayet!" she shrieked, and flung herself at Alanna in a fierce hug.

"Yasminda?" Buri questioned.  The girl hurried over to hug Buri.

Yasminda nodded happily.  "Yes!  How are you… all?"  Her companion glared at her.  Yasminda dropped her eyes to the ground in embarrassment.  "Ah… this is my brother Malcolm."  

Malcolm glared at his sister until she looked properly ashamed, and then returned back to the King as if nothing had happened.  "We apologized for our slow journey to the capital, but there were a great many sandstorms and bandits.  But we are honored that you have asked for us to be in your wedding ceremony." The 'Evil Wedding Planner Who Wished for a Thousand Slow and Painful' beamed at the whole room.  She seemed ecstatic.  Buri grinned beside herself.  Perhaps this Royal Pain wouldn't be quite such a Royal Bore.   

* * * * * * 

Yasminda gleefully picked up several pieces of honey comb and stuffed them all into her mouth.  Buri watched in amazement.  She had finally met someone who liked sweets more then she did.  Cythera blinked in surprise and pushed a box of chocolates to Yasminda, who devoured then greedily.  

Alanna was already waiting in the stables for the rest of them to go on an early ride.  Thayet was getting dressed in the riding outfit she had recently bought. 

"Yasminda, dear, you're going to make yourself sick," Thayet advised as she laced up the bodice of her dress.  "Cythera, do you think the bow on my right shoulder is too gaudy?"

Buri glanced at it. It was large, pink, and dipped in gold.  Gaudy didn't even begin to describe it.  Cythera seemed to be struggling for a tactful way to say this.  

"Ah eeh tases goo an ee won gee ick."  Yasminda swallowed.  "Sorry.  I mean, I won't make myself sick."

"Everything's good in moderation," Cythera murmured finally.  "Including sweets.  But, ah… I think the bow is just slightly over-crowding, ah… your dress."

Thayet examined herself in the mirror.  "Yes… I did think it rather ornate for a riding skirt and blouse."  She began tugging at the bow.

Buri neatly pulled her dagger from her belt and flipped it in the air.  She was getting bored.  "You can use my dagger if you want."  

There was a loud banging noise in the hallway.  The door swung open to reveal a rather irritated Alanna.  "Do you mind actually coming to the stable if we're supposed to be riding?"

Buri caught her dagger and flipped it up in the air a few more times.  "Thayet's trying on her new riding outfit."

Alanna raised her eyebrows.  "That's supposed to be a riding outfit?  Whatever happened to breeches?"

Yasminda swallowed her mouthful of chocolates.  "You can wear breeches?  Malcolm would have a heart attack if I wore breeches!"

Buri scowled at her brown riding skirt.  "Some of us can and do wear breeches on a regular basis."  She threw a particularly nasty glare at Thayet, who pretended not to notice.

Cythera looked amused, and stood, straightening her skirt as she did.  "Perhaps we should head off now…."

Thayet sighed, and disappeared behind a silk screen to change into her breeches.

"Where are we going?"  Yasminda wanted to know, holding a large handful of chocolate.

Alanna rolled her eyes.  "It's an ancient custom for some reason or another… the future queen is treated to one of the realm's many spas every week up to the wedding.  For free.  And her bridesmaids are required to go too."

Cythera smiled.  "It's actually fun, Alanna.  Have you ever been to one?"

Alanna shook her head.  "No."

Buri re-sheathed her dagger.  "What do you do there?  We didn't have them in Sarain."  

"Well… they are used for relaxation, really, and beauty treatments."  Cythera paused a moment, trying to describe it.  "Ah… well, you'll see what they do.  They're slightly unorthodox sometimes, but they work."

Thayet stuck her head out from behind the screen.  "All right.  Ready to go girls?"

Yasminda nodded, looking rather exited.  Alanna rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.  Cythera smiled and quietly and elegantly swept across the room.  Buri quickly donned her usual scowl.  Another perfect afternoon to be in the training courts wasted on this Royal Pain…i.e. Thayet's stupid wedding.      

Wow, I'm out of ideas.  Read and review, though.  I guess another chapter'll be up after I listen to Les Miserables. L'Amis de la ABCs are my mini muses!  Though all the Thènardiers, surprisingly, help out quite a bit.  If you don't know about it, listen to the musical!  It's great!  Yeah, um… that's it.                        


	6. The Pretty Flower'

A/N:  I apologize for that horrible last chapter and the screwed up formatting.  But I have now found my muses!  *holds up a Les Miserables CD triumphantly* Yay Gavroche!  And for those of you who have listen/read/seen Les Miserables and Pirates of the Caribbean, doesn't Javert remind you of Commodore Norrington?  But anyways, now… on with the show!

Dedicated to my new beta: Flaming Knight.  Thanks for getting it done!

Disclaimer:  You see how this website's called 'fanfiction.net', and how this is under the 'Tamora Pierce' section?  Well, for the less observant of you, it means that this is obviously **fan-fiction on a series by Tamora Pierce.  If you couldn't figure that out by yourself, then the angels weep for you.  However, I do own Yasminda.  She's my original character who's, very hopefully, not a Mary Sue.  And I own the people you don't recognize, I think.**

The ride to the spa was uneventful. Alanna and Buri had a race in which they both tied, because Buri's horse galloped hungrily over to a patch of grass by the road, and Alanna was so busy laughing that she rode into a tree branch and fell out of her saddle.

          Yasminda had some trouble with her mare, as the mare didn't want to move.  However, they eventually got to the spa that had offered Thayet its free services for the afternoon. It was called 'The Pretty Flower.'

Buri had a sudden, violent, and compelling urge to scream.

Cythera and Thayet gracefully dismounted and handed the reins of their horses to a waiting young man in a uniform lavishly embroidered with silk flowers. He looked rather embarrassed. Yasminda rode up next, and her mare stopped rather suddenly and pitched the girl face-first into the dirt. She bore her injuries with fading good humor.

Alanna jumped off her horse and looped the horse's reins around the man in the flowered uniform's hand. Buri, feeling rather bored, did a somersault out of her saddle, and tossed the reins to the flowered youth while in midair. She landed on her feet, and the boy, unable to catch the reins, picked them off the ground in awe.

"How did you do that?" he questioned in admiration.

Buri shrugged. "It's one of the basics of trick riding, really. Not much to it. Just practice." Alanna, who was the closest to Buri, rolled her eyes again.

Buri grinned in satisfaction, and, before she realized what she was doing, walked into the spa.

When she opened the door an odd sight greeted her. The walls, floor, and ceiling were covered with flowers. Real flowers, cloth flowers, pictures of flowers, sculptures of flowers, furniture with flowers on it, mirrors with flower borders…. Buri rubbed her eyes, and blinked several times. The flowers were still there. Alanna looked annoyed, and was picking flowers out of her hair. Apparently flowers rained down from the ceiling, as well.

Yasminda was examining a rather ugly picture of a woman holding an overlarge bouquet of flowers in fascination. Cythera looked rather amused, and caught several flowers in her hand. Thayet stared in shock a moment, then composed herself and looked regal and queenly.

After a moment, a woman in a floral-printed dress rushed forward. "Ahh! Oo would ou beh?"

Cythera dumped her handful of flowers on a nearby table. "This is Her Majesty, Princess Thayet of Sarain, soon to be Queen of Tortall-"

The woman clapped her hands in delight. "Ah!  Zee Queen!  Right zis way, Your Majesty!" She strode purposefully out of the room. Thayet blinked and then followed her. The others had no choice but to go along as well.

The woman halted in a room with lots of chairs, lots of sinks and bathing pools, and several padded tables. Everything that could be decorated was still covered in flowers. Buri squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that when she opened them, the flowers would be gone. They weren't.

"I am Madame Madeleine. Zis is my spa! Zee Pretty Flower! Welcome, an' 'ave a good time-a!"  Madame Madeleine beamed at them happily. "Am I right in zinking zat zee rest of you are zee bridesmaidz?"

"Unfortunately," Buri mumbled. Someone elbowed her in the ribs. Thayet turned and nodded.

"Ah! Such fun zis will be, non?"

Thayet smiled charmingly. "I'm sure it will be an experience we'll never forget, Madame." Yasminda looked as if she was tempted to say something, but then thought better of it. Cythera seemed to be trying not to laugh.

"Now, we 'ave somezig all planned out for you, zo it will be much fun-a."

A troop of women suddenly appeared.

Madeleine beamed at them. "Zese good people will be 'elping you today! Zis is Fleur, Marie, Azelma, Eponine, and Gabrielle. Now, off to zee side is a room wit many shelves and benches, yes? And zhere please take off your clothes and put on zese."  Azelma, or Eponine, or whatever her name was stepped forward and held up some strange sort of beige undergarment. It was slightly like the bodice of a dress, except that it didn't have a skirt or sleeves, and it had a sloping back. It also seemed to have a strip of cloth between the legs kind of like a loincloth. "And zen come out here!" Madeleine continued, when she thought that they'd had a chance to look at the garment. "We'll begin shortly. If you need any 'elp just 'ollar! Oh, and no shoes or stockings, and take out your 'air, ah?"

Thayet nodded, and they all began heading towards the door. Buri, Alanna, Thayet, Yasminda, and Cythera each took one of the strange garments and headed into the room, where, with much difficulty, they changed.

Buri felt extremely foolish when she stepped out.

"Now, oo are zese beeee-ot-eeful ladies?" Madeleine called out from where she was by what appeared to be a large pit of mud. "Now, just-a, come 'ere and wallow in zis mud. Get mud all over yourself, even in your 'air! One of our geerls vill be sure to 'elp you if you need it."

Buri glanced around. Yasminda was uncertainly holding onto her headscarf.  Thayet eyed the mud pit dubiously. Alanna looked like she was attempting not to laugh.  Cythera had cautiously dipped her foot into the mud. Buri sighed, then ran up to the pool and flipped in.

"Ah! Bon!" Madeleine yelled. Mud splattered all over Buri, Cythera, Thayet, and the floor.

Thayet smiled. "You're in for it, Buri!" She dove into the pit and began flinging handfuls of mud at the short K'mir. Cythera slid in, and after observing a moment, began to join in the mud slinging. Yasminda gently placed her headscarf on a flowered table after being reassured that there weren't any men present. She and Alanna jumped into the mud too.

Buri scooped up a handful of mud and flung it at the back of Thayet's head.  Thayet whirled around and quickly dumped an armful of mud over Buri's before Alanna distracted her with a mud-ball whacking her in the back. Cythera tossed several handfuls of mud at Alanna, who promptly teamed up with Yasminda to cover the blonde lady with a large amount of mud.

"Very good!" Madeleine would call out every so often. "Try sviming or getting your faze muddy." After she felt her guests were sufficiently covered in mud, she rounded them up and herded them to a pool of clear, warm, spring water.

They swam around in the water for a while, and had a few races, which, rather surprisingly, Cythera won.

"All right!  Pleeze sweem to zee sides of zee pool! Zhere are, ah, iz a ledge where you pleeze seet down." Madeleine was perched on a poofy armchair that was festooned in flowers. The other people who worked there quickly made their way to the edge of the pool with bottles of some types of liquids, towels, and brushes.

Buri swam to the nearest employee and seated herself on the ledge.

"Bonjour! Je suis Gabrielle," the girl greeted her. "And now do you mind if I talk in Common?  Not many people understand Marenese."

Buri smiled. "That's fine with me."

Gabrielle grinned. "Great. Now, I get to wash out your hair with a special formula-type thing. It'll get rid of knots and get your hair shiny and smooth." She showed Buri a bottle that was, not surprisingly, shaped like a flower. Buri was willing to bet that the solution smelled like flowers too.

"Turn around!" Gabrielle instructed her. Buri did, and felt some liquid that smelled strongly of roses being poured on her head. "Now, just sit still, and it won't get in your eyes." Buri rested on the ledge, and pressed her back to the wall.

"Now… you're a bridesmaid, aren't you?"

Buri closed her eyes, as foam was now dripping down her face. "Regrettably."

"What do you mean? I think it's rather exciting to be involved in a wedding.  Now close your eyes. I'm going to wash your hair out." A large pitcher of cold water was dumped on Buri's head. Buri spluttered indignantly, as she was currently unable to breathe.  

Once Buri was able to pull oxygen into her lungs, Gabrielle explained that she was now putting in a different type of potion that would strengthen Buri's hair. Buri scowled.

"About this wedding…" Gabrielle poured a liquid onto Buri's head.

"Oh. Thayet and I have been best friends for a while. Actually, I've been her bodyguard too.  Have been, pleth, for a while." Buri wiped a handful of orange foam off her face. 

"Really? Oh. She was a princess, wasn't she? A, uh, _jian_ Wilma, or something?"  Buri felt more foam sliding down her head onto her neck and shoulders.

"Um," Buri spluttered, wiping the foam off her mouth and nose. "Yes. She is.  She met the king when Lady Knight Alanna brought us and the Dominion Jewel to Tortall, all the way from Sarain and the Roof of the World."

Gabrielle stopped scrubbing the orange liquid into Buri's head, and her voice took on a dreamy quality.  "Ah. It's like something out of a bard's tale. A female knight! A princess, a royal wedding with a happily ever after ending- and the members of the wedding party coming to our salon!"

"Gaw-ah-phhh," Buri replied, not being able to speak due to the large quantities of foam around the parts of her face used to breathe.

"Oh! Sorry," Gabrielle apologized quickly, resuming the task at hand. "But it must be such marvelous fun to be involved in the royal wedding. Close your eyes; I've got another pitcher of water." Buri obliged. "This one will get rid of any old hair or skin on your head. I heard that for the king and our future queen, it's a love match!  How romantic!"

"Hmmmmmm," Buri mumbled, not really that interested in romance. In fact she could really care less about love, or whatever else bards sang about in those romantic ballads. More things were poured on Buri's head.

"Eponine, one of the other girls who works here, she's in love, I think. Handsome bloke. Name of Marius Pontmercy."

"Ah," Buri interjected, hoping that by saying something, Gabrielle might possibly stop talking for a minute. It didn't work, and a pitcher of (very cold) water was poured over Buri. Of course, this was followed by another potion.

"Um-hmm! And he lives next door to her. He's a student, but he doesn't have much money. Training to be a lawyer or some such. Eponine really likes him. But I think she scared him when she walked into his room and looked at all his stuff- even the things he'd put away in his desk. However, he's in love with someone else."  

Buri would've rolled her eyes, but if she opened her eyes she would get the potion in them.  She could figure why…Marius, was it? ...didn't care for Eponine.

"Anyway, love is really a grand thing! And if the king and queen are in love… Oh, they must be so cute to watch!" Water was dumped over Buri's head.  

Another form of liquid was dumped on her hair. Buri felt more than slightly exasperated. "Actually, they're very boring."

"Oh," Gabrielle murmured, apparently not having a reply to that. "Eponine said she has a special term for the kind of love she suffers from. It was… ah… un… unreel… unrequited! Yes! Unrequited. It sounds very pretty, don't you think?" Buri attempted to interject, but Gabrielle was on a roll. "But when I told Madeline that, she got annoyed with me because she said unrequited love is the worst kind of love you can suffer from, because it meant that that Marius bloke didn't love Eponine back."

"Everyone suffers from that at one time or another," Buri finally cut in.  Truthfully, she hadn't. In fact, it was just something she had overheard Thayet say to console one of her ladies-in-waiting. Buri absolutely hated the idea of _marrying_ one of those stuck-up pricks called 'lords' that Thayet kept seating her next to at dinner parties.

Gabrielle, thankfully fell silent after that.

Buri peeked around her. The others were getting the same treatment as she was.  It probably had the same dialogue too.

And more to come! *grins* 


	7. sigh Love

A/N:  Wheee!  So many reviews!  I feel so loved!  Oh, and sorry for the loooong time it took me to update.  *bows to impatient readers* Terribly sorry!  

Disclaimer:  Hmmm.  I'm pleased that you seem to think I'm an award-winning writer who has written an utterly fantastic series of books, but I'm really not Tamora Pierce.  Sorry!  You can still have my autograph if you want, though! ;-D        

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay!  Now you can get out!" Gabrielle chirped cheerfully.  

Buri pulled herself out of the pool impatiently, and ran a hand through her hair.  To her immense surprise, her hair was soft and shiny.  Even more surprising, it was silky and dandruff-free.  It even smelled nice.  And it wasn't tangled.  Of course, it was still wet, but all the same, Buri was amazed.  _Her hair wasn't tangled_.  

"Ah, noo it iz gud to come and seet _'ere_!" Madeleine called as she scurried over to chairs in front of mirrors.  Buri shrugged and followed, surreptitiously sneaking a glance at everyone else.  Alanna looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or be shocked, and so far, shock seemed to be winning.  Cythera was humming to herself again, apparently at home with the more unorthodox practices of the salon.  Yasminda was giggling madly.  Thayet was doing her best to look queenly and kind though she really looked more than a little exasperated.  Buri wondered if Eponine had washed Thayet's hair.

"Seet 'ere!" Madeleine commanded them with a smile.  "We'll dry your 'air noo!"  Buri deciphered that to mean that it was time to sit down in the chairs and they'd dry her hair.  She wished she had a towel to use to dry off first. 

"Okay!  And noo we style your 'air and move on to zee facials!"  

"Facials?" Buri asked Cythera, who seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on.  

"Oh, they're just cleaning your face," Cythera assured Buri quietly.  "They put things on your face to help make your skin healthier."

"Ah…"  Buri muttered, eyeing the pots on the counter with suspicion.  She sat down on a chair.  It was surprisingly comfortable.  

"Bonjour," Gabrielle said again.  "Now, I don't think this'll be too painful, but I haven't tried it.  We curl your hair with these!"  She showed Buri a handful of pink, flowery rollers.  Buri had the impulse to take the roller, rip the flowers off it, and stomp on the flowers until they were little less then dust.  She fought the urge by biting down on her tongue.  It was very painful.

"Mademoiselle… are you all right?  You're making the strangest face."  

Buri smiled weakly.  "Oh, it's… nothing."

"Well, anyway, it must be terribly exiting to be involved in planning the wedding," Gabrielle chattered on.  Buri watched in the mirror as Gabrielle stuck the rollers on Buri's head and wrapped Buri's hair around the curlers.  Buri winced in pain.  "I imagine you've met all sorts of wonderful people."

"Like the Wedding Planner Who Wished for A Thousand Slow and Painful Deaths," Buri muttered.

"Hmmm?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Buri said airily, occasionally wincing in pain.

"Well, I still think it's all terribly grand.  Have you ever been in love?"

Burin winced. "No."

"I haven't… I told you about Eponine, didn't I?"

"Yes," Buri interrupted quickly.

"Well, I don't think that's real love, do you?"

"Most definitely," Buri agreed, trying to do anything to get Gabrielle to shut up.  

"Real love has to have two people."

"Rather."

"And, I suppose… I read something somewhere, where there were two people in love.  And they thought about each other all the time.  And… they were very kind to each other and paid each other compliments.  I think it would be nice to be in that kind of love."

"Nice and boring," Buri muttered.

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing." 

"Well, I imagine the king and queen, my apologies, our _future_ queen are like that."

"They are that boring."

"Boring?" Gabrielle seemed surprised by the answer, though Buri had stated her boredom with the wedding several times now. 

"Yes, boring.  It's incredibly dull for everyone to be around people in love.  I should know."  Gabrielle stopped curling Buri's hair and picked up a flower-shaped pot with something that looked like mud in it.  Buri entertained thoughts of slamming the pot against the wall then burning every flower she found in the salon. 

"This'll unclog your pores," Gabrielle chirped.  "But what do you mean, boring?"

"As you said, they can only think about each other," Buri continued as Gabrielle slathered the mud on her face.  "That's all they can talk about, too.  They seem to lose all interest in everything else. It's an awful bore."

"Really?  Well, do they try …um… 'set you up' with nice men?"

Buri was tempted to bite something and settled for her tongue.  It was still rather painful.

"Are you all right?  You look as if you're in great pain…."

"Oh, nothing," Buri lied.  "It's simply nothing at all. And I have neither the time nor the inclination for romance.  Besides, falling in love is stupid."

"Stupid!" Gabrielle exclaimed, shocked.  "What do you mean, stupid?"

"Just what I said," Buri said shortly, wanting to quickly change the subject of the conversation.  "Falling in love is rather stupid."

"If you say so," Gabrielle murmured dubiously. 

Buri sighed and stared at the ceiling, relieved that the conversation was over.  Apparently she thought way too soon.

"Well, have they ever set you up with any handsome knight who would try to win the favor of carrying your handkerchief in a big tournament?"  Gabrielle was not easily deterred from any information she wished to know.

"Yes," Buri admitted after a moment.  "Some of them are interesting." She thought of Sir Raoul with his good-natured smile and funny dislike for formal parties, "and some are slack-jawed idiots whom I would be glad to personally castrate myself." 

Gabrielle was determined to find some source of love in Buri's life.  "Interesting?  What do you mean?"

Buri refrained from biting her tongue, but just barely.  "I mean… um… someone I can make pleasant conversation with and don't mind being around.  Someone who is my friend, and has no interest in being my beau just because I'm the queen's best friend and could pave their way into the royal courts."

Gabrielle grinned with triumph.  "Ah!  So you fancy him?"

Buri was suddenly very_, very_ glad that she couldn't blush.  The fact that she wanted to blush irritated her greatly.  "No, I don't."  However, the doubt was planted in her mind.  They had been 'set up' hadn't they?  What if…

Buri pushed the question firmly out of her mind and began to imagine all sorts of ways to destroy the spa as the mud mask was peeled off her face and Gabrielle busied herself with Buri's nails, apparently painting them, as Thayet's so often were.  Buri was not pleased to see that her nails were being painted bright pink. She began figuring out how to get the paint off her fingers.  She was even tempted to cut them off in order to not have to look at the… pink-ness of it.  Buri loathed pink with a passion.  

"Okay!  Now for makeup!"  

Buri blanched.  Fearless warrior she was, but she had always been slightly afraid of makeup.  Or at least, she was afraid of having makeup on her face.  _That _was what she did not like.  

Buri shot a death glare at Thayet, who looked rather weary and tired as her attendant began applying lip rouge.  Buri began to feel rather sorry for Thayet, knowing that she had that Eponine girl attending her.  Buri bit her tongue again, which was no less painful then it had been the first few times she did it, and let all sorts of strange things be brushed over her face.  Buri calmed herself by thinking of various painful deaths for the spa and how she would secretly wash off all the makeup later.  

After Buri had imagined several intensely painful deaths to the inventor of makeup, Gabrielle finished, and restored to good humor, was twittering happily.  She swiveled the chair around so that Buri was facing a mirror.  Buri was rather shocked; she looked… almost pretty.   

"See?  Now you look all nice and ready to court that nice knight of yours!" Gabrielle chirped quite happily.

Buri bit her tongue again.  It was _still_ very painful.             


	8. Various Annoyances

A/N: So sorry for the delay. I've just been working on all my Les Mis and whatnot, and then homework... yeah, I know. Excuses, excuses. But at least I've finally updated!  
  
Disclaimer: Buri is not mine. Raoul is not mine. Thayet is not mine. Alanna is also not mine. Cythera is... also... not mine. Neither is Stefan. In fact, I don't own anything here but the situation. And 'The Pretty Flower'. I'm pretty sure I own that.  
  
Buri was rather grumpy as she rode out of the salon. Not only was her face slathered in... horrible... disgusting... face paints... lip rouge, and all sorts of scary products that Buri forgot the names of, but her tongue was swollen.  
  
'I probably should have expected it after all those times where I was forced to bite my tongue,' Buri mused crossly. 'But this is still painful. It really began to swell when they put that red stuff all over my cheeks. Maybe I'm allergic to that... whatever it's called. I'll kill whoever invented that stuff. My tongue hurts.'  
  
Not only that, but as she was riding out, she had noticed how artfully her now curled hair spilled over her shoulders... and out of her hair ties. Her hair, which, before had been perfectly happy being braided or tied back, refused to obey her.  
  
And there was the slight matter of her clothes....  
  
"Cheer up," Cythera advised in a murmur. "Pink actually goes remarkably well with your complexion. It looks very good on you." With that, Cythera cantered off.  
  
Buri glared at her pink and flowery dress. As soon as she got back to Corus, she was going to change and burn the stupid, hated, ugly dress. Then she would take the cinders and burn them again. Then she'd forcibly stomp them into the ground and then dig them back up and burn them yet another time. After that, Buri considered burning them a fourth time, but decided it would be much more satisfying if she sent them (with a particularly nasty and threatening letter) to 'The Pretty Flower'.  
  
Buri smirked slightly as she imagined 'The Pretty Flower' spontaneously (or rather, not so spontaneously) combusting. However, Thayet took Buri's smirk for a grin.  
  
"See, Buri?" Thayet pointed out somewhat snootily as she trotted up to her bodyguard. "Beauty can be fun."  
  
Buri tried to angrily rebuke the future queen of Tortall, but momentarily forgot her tongue was swollen. So Buri was really quite unable to say anything. It was most infuriating. Buri settled for scowling again, shaking her head vehemently, and tried to communicate in limited sign language (as she was still holding her reigns in her left hand) that going to the spa, was probably one of the most painful experiences of her life.  
  
However, her sign language was not that good.  
  
"You... got a bee sting?" Thayet asked, puzzled. "Oh, watch out for that tree branch!"  
  
Buri smacked herself on the forehead. Unfortunately, it was with her dominant left hand... the hand holding the reigns. Her horse abruptly reared (thought partly because of the tree branch, which it nearly tripped over), and Buri clung as best she could to the horse, (while in the dress that was much too tight for riding) trying to calm it.  
  
Of course, her hair had to, helpfully, flop (most like a dead fish) into her eyes, quite impairing Buri's vision. And Buri could not verbally reassure her spooked horse as, currently, she was unable to speak at all.  
  
Alanna, who had been ahead, wheeled her horse around and somehow managed to calm down Buri's horse. Buri nodded her thanks, and Alanna swore.  
  
While Alanna continued swearing under her breath, Buri let her horse trot around the branch and gave it reassuring pats on the neck. After a few moments, the horse settled down and, sensing Buri's slack reigns, wandered away from the tree branch. Buri took the moment to try and get her hair out of her eyes.  
  
"Buri, what happened? You're usually a much better horsewoman then this!" Alanna pointed to Buri's borrowed horse, which, after snorting calmly, had ambled over to the side of the road and was munching contentedly on a patch of grass on the side of the road.  
  
Buri again relied on her primitive form of sign language to signify that it was not her fault there had been a tree branch in the road and that her hair had flopped into her eyes like a dead fish and that she was unable to talk.  
  
Alanna was as puzzled by Buri's sign language as Thayet had been. "Wait... you... ran out into the road... and your arm fell off? Did you hurt your arm, Buri?"  
  
"Are you feeling all right?" Thayet inquired, putting an elegantly white- gloved hand to Buri's forehead.  
  
Buri huffed to herself, and then shook her head. She decided that it was probably better if she tried to communicate that her tongue was swollen and she could not talk.  
  
"What's going on?" Cythera asked; galloping back, cloak fluttering behind her like a butterfly's wing. Yasminda's horse refused to go quickly and was far behind them all.  
  
Buri pointed to her mouth and then shook her head. She received several odd stares.  
  
"Oh, charades!" Cythera exclaimed in surprise. "I love charades. Okay... no talking? You won't be talking? Is it a painting?"  
  
Buri sighed in exasperation and drummed the fingers of her right hand on her knee. After shaking her head, Buri pointed to her throat and made a cutting motion across it.  
  
"You're... going to be beheaded?" Thayet guessed.  
  
"Perhaps it's a famous person," Cythera suggested.  
  
"We don't have time for charades if we want to be back in Corus before nightfall," Alanna snapped.  
  
Buri shook her head vehemently. She, again, pointed to her mouth, shook her head, and then opened her mouth so they could actually she how swollen her tongue was.  
  
"Oh," Alanna said.  
  
"I didn't know you were allergic to face paint," Cythera murmured.  
  
Buri then pointed to her tongue, and then pointed to Cythera to show Thayet that the allergy to face paint theory was correct. To make sure she was being absolutely clear and so that they couldn't miss her meaning, Buri nodded.  
  
"Ah," Thayet said in tones of great satisfaction. "That explains it."  
  
Buri then motioned that it would be absolutely lovely if Alanna could fix her tongue somehow. Of course, if Buri had her way, some curses and death threats to the stupid person who invented face paint would also be in there, but it was very hard to talk in sign language.  
  
After a moment, Thayet simply stated: "Buri, I have no idea what you're trying to say. Alanna, could you help Buri somehow?"  
  
Buri rolled her eyes. Whatever got the swelling in her tongue down, really.  
  
"All right," Alanna agreed, placing a hand on Buri's left arm. After muttering something, Buri's tongue felt cool and began to return to normal size.  
  
"Thank you," Buri muttered, after sticking her tongue out to make sure it was all right.  
  
"If you had a problem you should have just said something," Thayet admonished, eyes gleaming wickedly.  
  
Alanna rolled her eyes. Buri scowled. Cythera hid a smile behind her hand.  
  
When they got back to Corus, even though it was dusk, Buri carefully flipped the hood of her cloak over her curled hair. The hood helpfully kept her face in shadow as well, though it also impaired her vision somewhat.  
  
The other girls dismounted cheerfully, and with laughing conversations, unsaddled their horses and began rubbing them down.  
  
Buri rode up as closely to the stable as she could, dismounted almost silently, and snuck her horse into the stall. Buri carefully kept her back to the door to the stable and very carefully and slowly unsaddled and rubbed down her horse. After that, she cleaned all her tack (slowly and methodically- in fact, she cleaned her tack several times just to make sure it was clean) and groomed the horse several times.  
  
When Stefan, the groomsman, began to pointedly glare at her, Buri tugged on her hood to cover more of her face and slowly left the stable. Thayet and the others had long since given up on Buri, and headed back to the palace.  
  
Buri, having her tough, if-I-come-across-you-in-the-practice-courts-I'll- kill-you-even-though-I-look-like-a-harmless-short-little-K'mir-girl-who- wouldn't-dare-imagine-disobeying-her-parents image to maintain, could not have anyone see her like she was now, with, of all the stupid things, FACE PAINT smeared all over her face.  
  
So she stuck to shadowy corners and normally unused routes around the densely populated paths and tried to move as silently as she could while wiping the face paint off on her skirt. It didn't work at all, which made Buri feel extremely cross and even more determined to make sure no one would see her.  
  
Of course, with her luck, while she was carefully looking behind her to make sure no one saw her, she ran into someone. That someone was much taller then she was, and sent her sprawling. Unfortunately, the hood of her cloak fell off. Buri hastily looked away from whoever she had run into and covered her face with her hand.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry," a familiar voice said. "I didn't see you there... forgive me." He held out a hand to her. In his other hand he held a lantern.  
  
Buri's heart felt as if it had dropped into her boots. Of all the people she had to run into....  
  
"No problem," she muttered barely audibly, keeping her left hand in front of the side of her face and keeping her face turned away from Sir Raoul. Without moving her left hand away from her face, Buri stood and flipped the hood of her cloak back up. She cursed silently as she felt loose hair around her shoulders. Apparently, she had lost her hair tie.  
  
Raoul evidently felt the need to make small talk as Buri fumbled about with the pockets of her cloak, trying to find another hair tie.  
  
"Did you just come from the stables?" he questioned pleasantly.  
  
Buri answered with a noncommittal grunt, gave up her search, and began walking off.  
  
"Wait!" Raoul called, running after her. "I'm looking for a friend of mine, Buriam Tookarm? She went off with Princess Thayet this afternoon, and I haven't seen her yet-"  
  
At that moment, Buri's foot decided to get caught in a protruding tree root, and Buri tripped and fell.  
  
"Oh, are you all right?" Raoul asked in alarm.  
  
Buri cursed silently and scowled more fiercely then ever. "I'm fine." She pushed herself off, and Raoul brought the lantern closer to her to see if she was really all right.  
  
Buri froze.  
  
"Buri?!" Raoul questioned in tones of incredulity.  
  
Buri had the unmistakable urge to blush. "In the flesh."  
  
Raoul lowered the lantern so he could see her face better. "You're... wearing...."  
  
"Face paint," Buri finished, uncomfortably. Raoul stared at her, and Buri realized what a sight she must be.  
  
Her hair had tumbled loosely around her shoulders, her face was painted and lined and "accentuated" (Buri still didn't know what that meant), and she was wearing a ridiculous, low- cut, flowery pink dress. No wonder Raoul was staring. She probably looked generally silly and (obviously) completely opposite from her normal state of being.  
  
The corners of Raoul's mouth twitched and his eyes glinted with amusement and some other emotion Buri could not name. Buri wondered if he was slightly drunk.  
  
Buri made a face. "Go ahead and laugh. I look utterly stupid, I know. Thayet forced me into this. I never wanted to wear all this junk." At the word, 'this' Buri gestured at her face and dress.  
  
Raoul raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't going to laugh." His voice was very soft, almost to the point of inaudibility, and was filled with a rather strange emotion... sympathy, Buri guessed. Jon probably forced him into ugly clothing as well. The thought of the insanely tall and muscular Sir Raoul in a pink dress was the first thing that popped to mind. It was laughably ridiculous.  
  
Despite herself, she smiled at him. "Thanks. You're a good friend."  
  
Raoul's face darkened almost imperceptibly, but he smiled so quickly after that, Buri figured it was probably a trick of the light.  
  
"No problem," he said lightly. "To be assisting a fair damsel as yourself- " Buri snorted at that- "is an honor." With a courtly flourish, Raoul clasped her hand in his (Buri noted how small her hand looked when in his much larger one) and bowed.  
  
Buri chuckled. "Thanks, Raoul. You can always cheer me up. I suppose, though, I've already provided your amusement for the day?"  
  
It was Raoul's turn to chuckle.  
  
She glanced around covertly to make sure no one else had seen her, removed her hand from Raoul's, and flipped her hood up again. "Promise not to tell anyone you saw me in a pink dress and lip rouge?"  
  
Raoul's smile softened and his eyes glinted warmly in the lamplight. "Promise."  
  
It felt as if her heart had skipped a beat. Buri also found it suddenly very hard to breathe. 'The healing must be wearing off,' she thought as she walked back to the castle as quickly as possible. 'I think that stuff on my cheeks is getting to me again.' 


End file.
